Hero Worship
by Kaia Papaya
Summary: Dumbledore visited Harry at the Dursleys to deliver his Hogwarts letter, rather than leave it to fate. What he found distressed him immensely and he made a few suggestions to Harry that will have long lasting implications. Features a flummoxed Dumbledore.
1. Hero Worship

**Summary:** Dumbledore visited Harry at the Dursleys to deliver his Hogwarts letter, rather than leave it to fate. What he found distressed him immensely and he made a few suggestions to Harry that will have long lasting implications. Maybe a one-shot, maybe not.

**A/N: This ficlet popped into my head randomly a few hours ago. I'm not making any money on this, and I don't really intend to. These aren't my characters, though I hope if someone wants to borrow my plot bunny they at least ask.**

**Hero Worship**

Albus Dumbledore was a bad, bad man. Not evil, in the sense you're probably thinking, just bad. He'd had many people tell him this in many different capacities. However, he thought his crowning achievement came when Minerva McGonagall herself told him, "Albus, I cannot believe you've done this. You're such a bad man. Severus may never forgive you, I hope you know."

Her twitching lips belied the fact that she wanted to laugh, though he wouldn't have been able to tell if he hadn't been looking at her face. The others in the staff lounge certainly didn't realize how thoroughly he had pranked young Severus.

"Minerva," he said seriously, his eyes twinkling, "all I wanted to do was ease the animosity I thought may be present between our resident potions master and Mr. Potter. I wouldn't want any injustice to be done to young Mr. Potter in a misplaced display of hatred for his father after all."

"Does Severus know the... ah... full extent of your meddling?" she asked cautiously.

"I don't believe he realizes I've done anything. He may notice when he has Mr. Potter in class though."

Her mind flashed back to the sorting that had just happened. It had been going normally until Harry Potter's name had been called.

* * *

~*~ _Great Hall, 6:45 p.m. _~*~

"Potter, Harry"

Whispers broke out across the hall. "Did she say...?" "Is that _the_ Harry Potter?" "He's so small!" "I think I can see his scar" Across the hall, and even a bit at the staff table people were craning their necks to get a better look at the young man. Severus Snape, on the far end of the staff table, scowled down at his empty plate.

Harry, unknowingly mirroring Snape, scowled at all the whisperers. "I'm not some animal on display you know," He muttered to himself. The staff, and a few students close to the front, looked down in embarrassment at being caught staring. That was the first indication that something was not quite as expected.

As soon as the hat dropped over Harry's eyes, he heard the hat's voice. _Interesting. Very interesting. Good courage, some cunning, loyalty, and OH! What knowledge. I know just where to put you. _

Harry realized that the had was talking in his mind and cried

_WAIT. Don't put me in Ravenclaw. I want Slytherin.'_

_You could be _good_ in Slytherin, but in Ravenclaw you will be _great.

'_But Severus Snape is an absolute genius and you put _him_ in Slytherin.'_

_You know Mr. Snape, eh? He could have been great in Ravenclaw as well, but he chose Slytherin for power. You would choose it for loyalty. I'm not sure you would have such a nice time there. Many would be out for your blood you know._

_"Please?"_

_You are uniquely situated for Slytherin, Mr Potter. It's all in your head. However, I think the best place for you is RAVENCLAW_

Harry yanked the hat from his head and glared at it for a moment. He barely noticed as the table closest to the Slytherin one he had been eyed, decked in blue and bronze, made an absolute ruckus. "Stupid hat, " he muttered. At least it wasn't Gryffindor. Minerva of course assumed that he was disappointed about not getting into Gryffindor. However when she heard "Not Slytherin indeed," from his mouth as he practically stalked to the Ravenclaw table to sit with the other first years, she was left gaping after him for a few seconds. She quickly pulled herself together.

Albus would certainly want to know about this. He was unhealthily invested in that boy.

* * *

~*~ _Staff Lounge, 8:45 p.m. _~*~

After Minerva had told him this stunning information, all he had done was twinkle at her.

"Albus! What did you do?" She practically hissed at him. "I thought he was a dead ringer for Gryffindor."

"Oh, he is my dear. He does have the qualities of all four houses. However, I may have taken along a little extra information when I visited him this May to deliver his letter. I'm quite glad I did, especially seeing his living conditions."

The twinkle in his eyes faded as he recalled the cupboard Harry had been living in. He had removed Harry from the Dursleys for a week, as he promptly explained how things would be to the (now terrified) Dursleys. Albus was, altogether, thankful that the boy was well adjusted and not a second Tom Riddle but what he saw in the minds of those Lards staggered him. He shuddered to think what would have happened if Harry had followed the same path as Tom, and still blamed himself for the ten years of neglect Harry had suffered.

He now checked in on the Dursley Family every few days when Harry was living with them to make sure they didn't regress to their past technique of parenting, if you could even call it that.

When he brought Harry to Diagon Alley, he may, perhaps, have subtly implied that potions was the one art he could practice outside of school and not get reprimanded for. He may also have pointed Harry towards some of the books written in part by the Potions Master in residence. They could both use someone to look out for them.

When he relayed as much to Minerva, she steadily grew redder. He was afraid she was angry until one small giggle escaped her lips.

"Albus Dumbledore, you are a bad man."

**A/N: Questions or Comments? You know what to do. If you can see this going anywhere, just drop me a line and I'll continue it, though it was initially a one-shot for me.**


	2. Dawning Realization

**A/N: I'm starting this out by taking a large chunk straight from the text of Book One by JKR [ch8, p136], and then modifying bits as I go along. I know it's not my work and I'm not trying to represent it as such, so off we go! **

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls

Snape started the class by taking the roll call and paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - _celebrity_"

The Hufflepuffs that were sharing the class with Ravenclaw looked starkly petrified of Snape, but one or two of the more daring ones glared at Snape for being rude. Harry didn't mind particularly, since he was setting up to take notes.

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Harry continued gazing at him with expectation, and he wasn't let down when Snape began to speak.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. Harry and one or two more Ravenclaws were furiously scribbling to try and catch every word on paper. Harry was particularly thrilled to get to have a class with his idol.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. The Hufflepuffs shifted closer to whoever they were sitting with, but many of them gained determined looks on their faces; nobody wanted to receive this man's ire. Harry was on the edge of his seat, desperate to start proving that he wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood would be a sleeping draught. It was mentioned when I did the less powerful sleeping potion in June... that would be..._

"Draught of Living Death, sir" said Harry, after a moment's hesitation.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Correct. Was that luck, or are you in Ravenclaw for a reason, Potter."

Harry remained silent, as Snape seemed to be thinking.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

One or two hand went up around the room, mainly from students with a wizarding background. _Bezoar. That was in the addendum of the first year book, and it was so fascinating I asked Professor Dumbledore for another book on poisons and antidotes. Bezoar - goat... um... stomach._

"The stomach of a goat, sir."

"My, my, Potter. You've obviously opened a book. I'm amazed you know how to read."

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He didn't know if this was a test, but something was obviously going on here.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry grinned at that one.

"Nothing, sir." said Harry happily. "They're the same plant." Harry didn't break eye contact the entire time, and Snape scowled and turned to the rest of the class. Upset for some reason, he snapped,

"Why aren't you all copying that down? I highly doubt _all_ of you know _all_ those answers. I assure you they will be relevant this year in potions."

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, as those who didn't already have them out hurried to do so.

Things didn't improve for Harry as the Potions lesson continued. Snape grilled him on every step of the potion they were making, and seemed perturbed when Harry was able to answer all of his questions without blinking.

For the rest of the class though, he swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Harry, with whom he couldn't seem to find a flaw. He was just telling everyone to look at the atrocious way Finch-Fletchy stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

Hannah Abbot had somehow managed to melt Susan Bones's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools. Thankfully, Su Li had pulled Hannah out of the way of the potion, or she would have been drenched when the cauldron collapsed.

Harry grimaced from the other side of the room. "Idiots added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire," he muttered.

Snape looked at Harry oddly once more, before he swept across the room to the two quivering girls. "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Snape spat at Susan.

"No, Su pulled me out of the way in time," Hannah said, still trembling as the full force of Snape's glare rounded on her.

"That will be five points from Hufflepuff for failing to abide by safety standards, Abbot, and two inches about what would have happened if Ms. Li hadn't precipitously pulled you out of the way. due the next lesson."

The rest of the lesson continued rather uneventfully, until the end of the period. When Harry went to turn in his vial, he couldn't help but look at Snape once more.

Snape was staring at him again, and he studied the potion Harry handed him critically. He examined Harry carefully, and Harry quickly lost his nerve in the face of his idol and scurried back to his seat without a word.

* * *

Severus leaned back in his seat after the first years filed out. He'd been mentally preparing himself for a miniature James Potter from the moment he realized that Harry Potter would be in the incoming Hogwarts class.

That the boy had gone anywhere but Gryffindor was a shock. That he excelled in _potions _of all things was another. He'd set out to show the boy that arrogance wasn't going to get him anywhere in this class. Why the hell did a _Potter_ have to be good at potions?

His mind flashed to Lily, but he easily dismissed it.

More confusing was figuring out why the hell he found _adoration _and _idolization_ when he did the routine skim of the students' minds during his roll call.

He shook himself and strode out of the room. This definitely called for a glass of brandy.

**A/N: Comments? Questions? I'll continue this piece as long as there is interest in it or I keep thinking up bits that will fit along with what I already have. Don't expect this to be a whole set of complete books. If anything, It'll be snippets of the odd relationship Harry and Severus build with each other. And betting. And humor if it strikes my fancy. **_~Love, Kaia_

_Timing note on how Harry is so advanced: Albus came in mid May, which gives harry about 3 and a half months to work on his potions. With Dumbledore or someone wizarding-like stopping by fairly often to make sure the abuse doesn't start again, it's very easy for him to get new supplies and books whenever he runs out.__I'm calculating that if there is only first year Potions once per week, then there are about 20 classes per term. This would mean that Harry could thoroughly cover one potion per day during his newfound freedom, and work through At least one, and perhaps nearly 2 years of potions lessons. And of course he wouldn't stop working on potions during the year. This just gets more and more interesting. _


	3. Harry's Detentions

**A/N: Here we go. New chapter for you, and the date is October 24. Do any of you have something that would make a good birthday gift for a picky father? I've been obsessing over it for a long time, and I need to get something ****_pronto_ or I'm in deep trouble.**

Snape shook himself. Overseeing Harry Potter's detention wasn't as satisfying as he would have hoped. No matter what task the moronic boy was given, it seemed that he would do it without complaining or questioning. Perhaps he was expecting the mindless drudgery of miniature James Potter to be more fulfilling. It certainly would have been, if only the little brat acted like Snape knew was in his nature. He was probably only holding his bratty instincts in due to his mysterious hero-worship of Snape himself.

On the other hand though, perhaps the little know-it-all realized that he deserved every second for what he had done. Severus glared over to where Potter was preparing stewed hornstools with only a small grimace on his face due to the smell. Despite all he wished to deny it, he knew that if any of his Slytherins had been asked to do this task, they wouldn't have been nearly as obedient. Especially since they all viewed it as barbaric that first years had to participate in flying lessons before they were allowed to check out school brooms.

Instead, Potter had been meek after gaining detention for misbehaving in those lesson. It was like having a puppy. A puppy that was very good at potions. A puppy that knew exactly how to look to wrench his heart out after any punishment Severus _knew_ he didn't deserve, but gave anyway. It was maddening.

If only those eyes weren't Lily's eyes, and if only he didn't like potions. Well, actually, the real problem Severus had was that James Potter had never liked potions, and anyone that acted so much like Lily with _those eyes_ couldn't be a miniature James Potter.

Severus practically growled and looked up - Potter was nearly done with the stewing. Not even his OWL students were that efficient in ingredient preparation. Damn. Well. What to do now? The boy had only been in detention for an hour or so.

The internal debate raged. He knew Potter was competent enough to complete tasks he wouldn't set to other first years, but this was supposed to be a detention. Not something the bloody maniac would enjoy. So as Snape contemplated what he could give Potter next, he wandered to his supply shelves to see what was running low.

Fairy Dust was getting low, as were dried lacewings. Doxy poison wasn't exactly low, but he had just procured some live doxies. Snape shook himself for considering that one. That particular job was a dangerous one, and he didn't want to accidentally poison Potter if he slipped up, no matter how annoying the little pest was. Perhaps more flobberworms paste would be required. Flobberworms weren't rare by any means, but they were a common neutral base for many potions.

"Potter, when you are done, you will be stewing flobberworms and distilling their paste for two hours. You will prepare the worthless creatures without bothering me any more than you have to, or I will know why."

The child just nodded, not looking up from his work. "Yes, sir"

_____________________________________________

Harry was bored. He knew detentions were supposed to be terrible, and he supposed that if he didn't like potions, this one would be. However, this wasn't to much terrible as tedius. Tedious, however, was a much preferable scenario to his childhood cooking adventures. Nobody was yelling at him, nobody was attempting to sabotage him, and he had already eaten.

He suspected that Snape wasn't exactly angry with him when he realized he wasn't going to have to do menial labor like the Gryffs were always complaining about. Weasley and Finnegan had already served more than one detention, and from the way they went on about it, the world was about to end. Stewing and prepping ingredients was almost calming, and reminded Harry of his perfect summer, when he only had to speak to the Dursleys when spoken to, which Harry made sure was _not often._

With the hornstools stewed and bottled, Harry moved on to the flobberworms with no protestations. He could see Professor Snape in the corner of his eye preparing something as well, but from this angle it was difficult to see clearly.

Every minute, Harry would inch his stool to the right a bit to get a better line of sight on what Professor Snape was doing. Nearly twenty minutes later, Harry finally had a clear view and he realized that the Professor was removing the venom of something that looked like a combination of what muggles thought were fairies and demons: petite blue creatures with wings, but the wings were leathery like bats, and the teeth sharp and venomous. The eyes were also menacing looking, and they were alight with rage on all of the little pests, probably since they were unable to move. Not wanting to be caught staring, Harry quickly averted his eyes and continued to prepare the flobberworm paste.

When Snape caught Potter staring the third time he looked up, he was a little startled to realize that Potter had moved three feet down the table in order to get a better vantage point, and he, Snape, hadn't noticed. 'You're out of practice, old man, if a child can surprise you like that,' Snape thought to himself. Once again, almost to make sure it wasn't a fluke, Snape skimmed over the top of Potter's thoughts.

Boredom was expected. Peace was surprising, but understandable since he liked potions. _Curiosity?_ What was Potter curious about? He knew that preparing ingredients wasn't like a detention if you actually enjoyed potions, so that wasn't surprising. However, there wasn't anything interesting happening right now. He took a closer look into Potter's eyes when he looked up next. An image of himself and a doxy flashed past. Apparently the boy knew that he was removing poison, but he didn't know what the creature was. Normal for a muggle-raised. Especially a first year. Though the fact that he knew Snape was performing poison removal was interesting. Pending good behavior he would see what would come of it.

_____________________________________________

At the end of the two hours, Harry was ready for bed. The monotonous work had left him with his eyelids drooping, but he refused to let himself fall asleep. When Snape told him to bottle what he had and put the rest of the equipment away, he did so quietly and efficiently.

As he was turning to leave the classroom, Snape called after him, "Potter, come up here for a minute."

"Yes, sir." Harry turned and padded his way up to the desk quickly, before Snape thought better of whatever he was going to do and changed his mind. When he got there, Snape didn't look at him, just began talking.

"This is a doxy, Potter." He said, by way of introduction. "They are dark household pests that are poisonous enough to kill a small mammal no larger than a raccoon. Their poison would make you sick, but not fatally so. I have been removing the toxin from the live creatures because it is used in both healing potions and some poisons studied in upper years."

Harry nodded, drinking all of this in. It was more than he'd hoped for, and he had already made up his mind to go to the library the next day to figure out what the strange animals were. His eyes didn't waver from what Snape's hands were dong. His sleepiness was banished, as this was far more interesting work than stewing flobberworms.

"You open the mouth like so, making sure to keep your fingers out of the way. I have a bottle of antidote on hand, but a doxy bite is extremely unpleasant. There is a small sac just behind the hollow canines that you must press, and it forces the poison to drip through the teeth into the bottle I have waiting."

As he explained the process, he did all the motions with his hands, and miraculously, an opaque white liquid dripped from the creatures fangs into a small vial. "Would you like to try, or do you feel this is beyond you?"

"I'd like to try sir."

So slowly that he thought he may break curfew, Harry pulled on protective gloves and repeated carefully the steps that Professor Snape just explained. After a few painstaking minutes, the viscous poison dripped from the fangs into the waiting potions vial.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, in an awed tone of voice. He had just gotten a personal lesson from _Severus Snape._ The man was a recluse. He had been excited enough just to be in the potions classes, and thankful that he was a Raven, not a Gryff who Professor Snape seemed to hate. He supposed the Gryffs were hated with reason in the potions classroom though. They probably had no patience whatsoever.

"I saw you staring, Potter." When Harry blushed and looked to the floor, Snape's eyebrows flew to his hairline for a moment before he began laughing uproariously in his head. "If you would like, you can continue with poison removal until your curfew. You've proven that you're able and it will get done sooner.

"Yes, sir. I would be honored." Harry whispered, nearly reverently.

To curb the idea that he was going soft, Snape responded with a snapped "This is a reward, Potter, for doing well in a ridiculous detention. That rule should have been made only after first years proved incompetent on a broom. If I catch you misbehaving in _my_ class," He threatened in a menacing tone, "I assure you that your detention will be both miserable and memorable. Especially since you seem to be rather competent." Harry nodded furiously, but noticed that the Professor hadn't withdrawn his offer so he pulled a stool over to the work table and began to work.

In silence of course.

At nine-fifty, Harry excused himself and made his way back to the Ravenclaw tower. Snape just looked at the vials of poison after Potter had left. This was much more than he had expected to complete that night. Perhaps he should have a talk with Potter after his next class. If the boy was willing to help, why not put him to work?

_____________________________________________

"Potter," Snape snapped near the end of a Potions class in mid-October, "Stay after."

"Yes, Sir." Harry called up to the front of the classroom.

His classmates started whispering and sending pitying looks his way. Harry had never openly expressed his respect for Snape, and he was beginning to be glad he hadn't done so. The man was a menace to everyone he deemed incompetent, which encompassed nearly the entire school. Harry thankfully escaped the dreadful label of incompetent, as did most Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws. There were some more exceptions, but not enough to dent the man's ironclad reputation as evil.

The class finished with no further explosions, though there had been some melting cauldrons early in the period from the Hufflepuff half of the classroom. Everyone had been a little on edge since then, and they viewed Harry as the likely scapegoat. When the bell signaled the end of the Period, everyone got out of there as quickly as possible. Harry made his way up to Professor Snape's desk and waited quietly.

"Potter," Snape began, with his hands steepled on his desk, "your most recent detention was incredibly productive. Would you be amenable to assisting with preparation again in the future?"

Harry didn't need to think about his answer, and almost immediately blurted out, "Yes sir. I would love to." Snape nodded thoughtfully. He said carefully, "I am preparing powdered lacewings tonight after dinner, and will be here in my office. If there are any other students in detention, it will appear to them that you are also in detention. Is this situation an acceptable one?"

"Yes, sir. I can finish my homework before dinner to make time. Thank you sir."

"That will be all. You may go."

Harry raced out of the office. He would probably be late to Transfiguration, but it didn't really matter. He was on cloud nine about his upcoming 'detentions'.

* * *

_~*~Two Months Later~*~_

"Severus," Dumbledore began quietly, "We really need to speak." Dumbledore had invited Severus to tea in his office the day after classes had ended for Winter Holidays. Severus had agreed, of course, though he didn't know what the older man wished to speak about.

"A lot of the older students, especially Ravenclaws, are noticing how often you have Mr. Potter in detention. The staff has added up the complaints and they think that it's nearly every night that he's occupied in the dungeons."

"Albus," Snape snapped, "I hardly think it's any of your business how I discipline my students. Has Mr. Potter complained like the little demon you know he is?" Snape took a vicious pleasure at the look on the old man's face when he said that. Pulling one over on Albus Dumbledore had long been his goal.

"Severus, you must know that he's not what you think he is," Dumbledore began tiredly. Snape expected he was about to go on a monologue about how much the two of them were alike. Of course Snape realized that they boy had been neglected at his relative's home. Potter had almost brought himself to mention it to Snape, when Snape had asked why he was so advanced in potions. Before Dumbledore could get on a roll, Snape interrupted him.

"Albus, I realize that he is not James Potter, but that simply means that he is intolerable in _his_ _own_ miserable way. Has he complained about the extra work? I think not, because the boy knows that he's getting _exactly_ what he deserves. You have much too soft of a spot for that boy. It cannot be healthy, Albus."

And with that, Snape spun and stalked out of the head office, not allowing himself to break down and laugh until he was safely in his office.

The next 'detention', Snape called the boy over to speak with him. Even though it was after classes had closed for the winter, Potter had asked if he could continue working with him since he would be at school over Christmas.

"Potter, the rest of the staff have realized that you have been spending an inordinate amount of time in this classroom. However, they are under the impression that you have been unfairly assigned detentions every weeknight since the beginning of the year. I simply told them that you are getting _exactly_ what you deserve, and I expect you not to contradict my statement. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. Professor Snape was _pranking_ the rest of the staff. Either that, or he was upholding his reputation as a man with no morals and a grudge against all of the students. It didn't matter. Harry had learned to lie with a straight face a long time before he came to Hogwarts.

"This entire school is quite protective of you, so I expect you to uphold my reputation. You seem to be smart enough." And with that, the matter was closed.

None except the most observant Slytherins realized what was actually going on. Well, they didn't realize for a long while at least.

**A/N: I don't really want to write a chapter about it, but I'm going to note that Harry's trip on the train wasn't exactly the same as it was in cannon. He hadn't already seen Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley, Hagrid hadn't told him that all Slytherins were evil, and Professor Dumbledore had influenced him to begin to practice potions in his spare time. On the train, I'm going to say he spent the entire time reading **_**Hogwarts a History**_** to prepare for Hogwarts, and an advanced potions book because he loves potions. He neutrally met both Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley. He has a tentative friendship with Hermione Granger after bonding over **_**Hogwarts a History**_**. Nobody has anything against him, but he's rather distant to everyone.**

Questions? Comments? You know what to do.

~Kaia


	4. Dark Stirrings

_**A/N: Ok, so this chapter jumps around a lot. It takes place during the summer months, but Harry is thinking back to times that have already passed, and that are definitely not cannon. It may be a little confusing since there are a bunch of different times meshed together, but I did what I could to make it less confusing ~Kaia**_

_Dark Stirrings_

Harry was miserable. _Sirius Black_ was at fault for that. If he hadn't been the first mass murderer to escape Azkaban (first anyone really, but mass murder sounded better), then Harry wouldn't be under the equivalent of _house arrest _with the _Dursleys._ He understood that his life was in danger, but being unable to set foot outside was extremely grating on the nerves, even with potions to occupy him. It was made worse since his extreme caution meant that the Dursleys were also scared out of their wits and refused to leave the house except for required things such as food from the grocery, work for Vernon, and videos from the rental shop. Harry was sure the clerks around town thought his relatives were mad, since they appeared only once every week and took out nearly ten movies and a huge load of groceries. This would cycle over and over again each week, with that being the only time they were ever seen outside.

Harry, on the other hand, spent his free time on either potions, or lost in thought. He supposed he would have to admit to himself that Voldemort was on the rise once again. His first indication had been in first year, when he had been serving one of the only real detentions he had earned all year.

_~*~ April, 1992 ~*~_

Filch had caught him after hours and assigned him a detention with _Hagrid_ of all people in the forbidden forest. He and a strange sixth year Hufflepuff followed Hagrid into the forbidden forest and helped him to look for the injured unicorn. The sixth year had spotted the trail of blood, but Harry was the first one to lay eyes on the dead unicorn. A dark shape was looming over the dead body, with the head lowered over a bloody wound in the unicorn's side.

Harry's scar had split open in pain, and as he let out a strangled yell and stumbled back, the other two had seen what he saw. The dark shape fled into the woods, but not before casting a long glance over the three that had come across it.

Hagrid quickly escorted them back to the castle, and left them in the entry hall. Harry could see the Hufflepuff was extremely pale, and her hair was nearly black, though he could have sworn it was lighter earlier.

Harry had spent the rest of the year trying to figure out what had made his scar burn so fiercely, though he didn't figure it out completely until the second incident in May. That incident had been when he told Flitwick that he had seen Professor Quirrel go into the third floor corridor and sing to the terrifying (and massive) three-headed dog there.

_~*~ May, 1992 ~*~_

Harry hadn't expected the reaction of the little man. Flitwick had jumped to his feet, alarmed, and practically ran to McGonagall's office. The two of them worked their way through the puzzles, after contacting Dumbledore about the emergency. Harry had, of course, tagged along behind them barely out of their notice. When they passed through the flame room, Harry had stayed and watched the proceedings through the icy flames.

He had nearly passed out from shock when he realized who was sticking out the back of Quirrel's head. His scar had lit on fire, and it was all Harry could do to sort out the correct potion from poison to go back through the flames. He sprinted back up the corridors, until he slumped just beside the Devil's Snare. After he conjured the little bluebell flame Hermione had showed him, the plant stopped its attempts to strangle him, and he was able to think in peace.

Professor Dumbledore had been surprised and upset to find him there as he ran to meet his two errant staff members, but was quite glad Harry hadn't gone any further. He had asked that Harry remain where he was, and ran off to find his colleagues. On the way back up through the traps, he had brushed away the questions of what Quirrel was doing in the corridor, much to Harry's annoyance, and sent him along with 20 points to Ravenclaw and a pat on the head. Harry simply spent the rest of the year in the library, trying to learn everything he could about the downfall of Voldemort. There wasn't much, to Harry's chagrin.

_The Present, June 1993_

Harry sighed as he looked around his room once more. If Black realized that his master was still out there, he could be going to join him, Harry mused. On the other hand, he could think that his master was completely vanquished and just want revenge. Since there really was only one person he could look at to get revenge on (which would be Harry) the Dursleys had been put on lockdown. Dumbledore still came by frequently, as did Professor McGonagall, and once Professor Snape had even checked in on him. When Harry had asked why he had to stay at Privet Drive, Dumbledore had explained that there was a set of blood wards that would protect any in residence at Number Four from those intent on harming anyone who called that house 'home,' and Harry had to call it _home_ for as long as he potentially could.

"Fuck." Harry mumbled to himself. Potions and blood wards really wouldn't be enough if he was going to have a mad Death Eater out for him. It would be helpful, but he would be a sitting duck to anyone if he was caught without any potions on his body.

* * *

The next time Dumbledore stopped by, Harry asked not only for NEWT level potions books, but a few advanced defense books. Dumbledore was curious about the defense books, but figured it couldn't hurt to get them for the boy. It would be ideal if he could at least read the theory over the summer, and practice during the year. Harry in Ravenclaw meant that the boy would do what he could to advance his knowledge. He also didn't understand how Harry still enjoyed potions even though Severus was obviously prejudiced against him, but Albus wasn't going to question their strange working relationship.

Harry did indeed sit an unprecedented number of detentions in the dungeons, but he lost almost no points for Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff in the same potions class had said it was rare, but Snape had even awarded Harry a few points. Something just didn't add up, and he _would_ figure out what it was.

He had hoped to diffuse all the tension between the two of them when he got Harry hooked on potions, and admittedly the stubborn man could definitely hate Harry more. He just wished Severus would look past the obvious and see how great Harry could be. They both deserved someone to lean on.

**

* * *

**

"At least he brought the damn books," Harry grumbled to himself after Dumbledore left one tuesday. Although Harry realized the man probably knew the best way to deal with rogue death eaters, it didn't mean that Harry had to enjoy being kept prisoner in his own bedroom. "At least I have some supplementary potions homework to do." Harry had realized last summer that he could owl Professor Snape his completed potions homework during the summer, and the man would send the essay back graded, and with another assignment.

This summer though, he was hoping for something more from the good professor. Harry thought for a few minutes and then began to compose a letter to send with his latest potions essay. After a few drafts, he finally settled on:

_Professor Snape,_

_I realize that I may be an intolerable pest to you during the school year, but you've been more than generous to me and I had a question for you. I saw how well you dealt with Lockheart's posturing during the dueling club last year, and I was wondering if you had any information that would allow me to better defend myself if attacked by someone. So far, both our defense curriculum and professors have been sorely lacking. I was hoping you would help me find information on defense that I'm sure you possess. I know that I'm unable to cast spells during the summer, but even direction towards helpful texts would be welcome._

_If you are able to help me and feel inclined to do so, I will of course work to repay you for the help you give me during the school year, beyond what I normally do._

_Cordially,_

_Harry Potter_

As Harry sent the letter off with Hedwig, he hoped for the best. Now all he could do was wait. He thought back to what had happened during his second year and smiled vaguely. Being brought up in the Dursleys had led to an intrinsic dislike of bullies, and a sympathy for all those who did nothing to deserve their picked-on status. After witnessing a group of first year Ravenclaws steal from and bully one of their year-mates, Harry had decided to take action.

_~*~ October, 1992 ~*~_

He helped the girl, whom he later found out was called Luna, find all of the items that had been hidden, and then yelled at the first years who had done such a thing. Of course he was met with nothing but scorn for the girl. "You'll see," one of the girls said, "she's batty," and the others all nodded in agreement. Harry did indeed see, but he really didn't care that Luna was a little different than everyone else. She was a bloody charms _genius_. Her mother had taught her how to tie charms into objects before she died, and little Luna had taken to stealing her father's wand whenever she could to practice.

Of course, since nobody took the time to get to know her, they never realized that the strange necklaces and headdresses she always wore were charmed quite heavily. There was a _very_ good reason why she was in Ravenclaw. After Harry had helped out Luna, he had taken to spending some time with her every day. She would read charms, and he would read potions. It was a strange friendship-acquaintance, but it worked for both of them. Luna didn't want to accept that her mother had died, and Harry didn't want to be famous for his parents dying. At first they didn't talk, but Harry slowly became inured to her oddities and realized that Luna was able to see to the heart of almost all problems, other than her own.

It amazed and puzzled Harry. At least, until she analyzed him, and then it just irritated him. She was one of the first to realize that he hadn't ever gotten in trouble with Professor Snape and instead chose to spend time down in the dungeons. "Luna," he had started warily, since Luna was still incredibly unpredictable, "Professor Snape asked me to keep the lessons quiet, so will you please not let on that you know they're tutoring and prep work, rather than detention?"

In a moment of serious behavior (serious for Luna at least), Luna looked at Harry cross eyed and simply said, "You're the only one in the school who is nice to me. Why wouldn't I be nice to you?" She left it at that, and Harry never asked again.

Other than that, second year had been fascinating. There were small flashes of pain in Harry's scar, which Harry attributed to Voldemort, but nothing major happened. He might occasionally get a strange dream full of hissing speech, but he mainly wrote it off. He realized that perhaps the dreams were more than just dreams when he had a lesson with Professor Snape in mid-January.

_~*~ Mid-January, 1993 ~*~_

They were going to be extracting poison from a few of the less venomous snakes that Snape could get his hands on, for Harry to practice some more serious venom removal that night. Harry waited for the lesson with anticipation all day, and beat Snape down to the dungeons that evening. Harry had felt a certain fondness for snakes ever since one had assisted him in Dudley's humiliation at the zoo before Hogwarts.

When he let himself into the classroom, he immediately walked over to the glass tanks where the snakes were being kept. Harry trailed his fingers along the glass of one of the cages and whispered, "Aren't you a beautiful one?" to a large black snake with a gold diamond pattern on its back.

"Of course I am," it hissed back, thoroughly shocking the boy. "You can speak?" Harry asked, nervously. He though Snape would have told him if they were dealing with magical talking snakes. "No," the snake said, in it's hissing whisper, "you speak like I do."

Parseltongue. Parseltongue. Parseltongue. Parselmouth. The words rang over and over in Harry's head. Voldemort was a parselmouth. Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth. He couldn't possibly rank up there along with all of those miserable dark lords. Perhaps he would have to ask Professor Snape about parseltongue in general. Now, he would speak to the snakes.

And so, as Harry waited for Snape to arrive in his office, he walked down the row of tanks, quietly talking to all of the snakes. He even explained to most of them what they were going to do, and promised that if they behaved well they would get food and heat. After that promise, there was a rousing chorus of assent, and Harry smiled faintly. Perhaps there was nothing evil about speaking to snakes.

However, from then on his new dreams with rattling, hissing speech took on a new meaning. Voldemort was a parselmouth, as was Harry himself, so that must be a snake somewhere real, and not only in his dreams.

~*~ Present Day ~*~

From that day on, Harry took careful stock of his dreams. He had them periodically, even in the summer. Thinking about that, Harry buried his fist into his pillow with a solid _thump_. And again. And again. If Voldemort really was rising, Harry was knee-deep in trouble and sinking fast. He could either learn to swim or drown, and he knew which he was going to try do.

He just hoped that Snape would write back soon.

* * *

Harry didn't have to wait long. Along with the next potions assignment Snape sent back was a list of good defensive texts, ranging from standard textbooks to obscure tomes that he doubted _Flourish and Blots _carried. Almost all of the books Dumbledore had brought Harry were on the list, he noted happily. After a few minutes of comparing the list to the books he already had, Harry examined his next assignment.

_Potter,_

_I have to admit that I'm pleased with your dedication to Potions. If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were older from the quality of your brewing. You have completed, to my satisfaction, the Standard OWL requirements that I will cover in my class. If it was allowed, I would remove you from third year potions, where your talents are wasted. However, you are required to remain in all of your core classes until you complete the OWLs. To supplement your potions studies in the upcoming year, I would recommend that you take Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes at the least, and perhaps also Arithmancy. Divination is a load of useless drivel, and I doubt that you have any need for Muggle Studies._

_For your next assignment I want you to select any potion from any year we have already covered and write an essay analyzing the ingredients, the ingredient preparation and the brewing technique as given by the textbook. You will then offer theoretical ways the potion could be improved, looking at all three distinct stages mentioned previously. This will require a deeper understanding of ingredient interaction, preparation techniques, and the uses of different ingredients than has previously been required. Most students who pass through the halls of Hogwarts do not understand potions this deeply even after they graduate. I fully expect you to master the technique before school resumes._

_Potter: It is very important that you do not attempt any of these variations while in your muggle home. Even the smallest variations can be VERY unpredictable, and I cannot guarantee your safety or the structural integrity of your home if you do not follow these instructions. I will allow you to brew your variation only _AFTER _I have looked at it to see if it adheres to safety regulations. This exercise will begin as a purely theoretical study._

_As to repayment for information, if you wish, I will work you like a slave when you return from Holidays. However, you do enough as it is during the year, and I do not require more compensation of any kind._

_Do not do anything stupid,_

_Severus Snape_

Harry looked at the letter with something akin to disbelief. For Snape that was practically gushing. He would treasure that letter as long as he lived. Harry's eyes glittered as he reread the first few sentences of the missive. He carefully lifted the floorboard in his room and placed the letter in where it would be safe and unseen by any prying eyes. He then began to rifle through his old textbooks, determined to impress Professor Snape once again.

**A/N: Ok, there are, once again, discrepancies from cannon. I think that since first year played a little differently, Lucius Malfoy isn't going to send Voldemort's diary to school. He's going to have an omen (Voldemort's spirit) when he thinks about it, and decides that if the book is what he thinks it is, then his former master isn't completely gone and will reserve a small place in Hell for Malfoy if anything happens to that artifact. **

**This means that there was a relatively uneventful school year for Mr. Potter, and that I as an author have thoroughly moved into an AU. I also choose to think that Harry took his now uninterrupted time to wage a war on bullies his age around the school, like Ron and Seamus (who bullied Hermione), some of the Ravenclaws (who bully Luna), and perhaps Malfoy at times, though he rarely does anything but bait the Weasleys.**

Questions? Comments? You know what to do

~Kaia


	5. The Chamber of Secrets

A/N: Ok, the Chamber hadn't been opened HP's second year. It's now his third year. Yes, Lucius Malfoy is still a bastard, but he didn't choose to plant that diary on Ginny this year (see last chapter's A/N). This never has and never will be mine, so I'm sure I'm making no money. It's a bit shorter than I was hoping, but it was a good break point. I'll try to update again soon as I have a lot of another ch written. I should also probably apologize for the huge (bit of an understatement) delay, but I hope I'll be better now with updating.

Harry paced back and forth nervously before Professor Snape's desk. He was going to be in trouble no matter what he said, the question was how much trouble he would be in. It was only the first week of his classes. He didn't want to get a real detention already, though that was probably inevitable by now.

"Out with it Potter. I don't know what has you so riled up, but it cannot, possibly be a good thing."

"Sir," he began, with a slight tremor in his voice, "I may have um... accidentally found the... um..." he added something here, but Severus couldn't understand what it was.

"Speak up, Potter."

"The Chamber of Secrets, sir," he said as he cringed and refused to look up at the Professor's face.

"Excuse me?" Snape began in a deadly whisper, "I could have sworn you just told me you accidentally discovered the Chamber of Secrets." He took a breath before continuing. "I must have misheard." Harry, who had not gained any confidence so far repeated,

"I may have accidentally found the Chamber of Secrets, sir." Snape reached into his desk and pulled out a small decanter of alcohol. After pouring himself a glass, he glared over the rim at the boy and just said,

"Explain to me, Mr. Potter, why you believe what you have found to be the Chamber of Secrets." The incredulity was obvious in his voice, and Harry just took a deep breath, not looking forward to this part.

"Well, sir, Luna and I were trying to find a way to get her stolen items back without actually having to search for them or accio them. We wanted to tie her to them with an object specific bonding potion, and after that all it would need is a little charms work to complete." Snape was still scowling at him from behind the glass, which was now, noticeably more empty.

"Luna, for some reason, thought that the best place to work was in the abandoned bathroom on the second floor. The one with the ghost, you know?" Snape nodded to indicate that he did know, and Harry had no excuse to stop his story.

"So we had finished up the potion, and were working on the spell work when Luna got into a conversation with Myrtle about how she died. Apparently it was all very mysterious. She just saw a pair of eyes where a sink was supposed to be and the croaked. So of course I was curious, because there really aren't many ways to die like that. I mean, the only things I know that can kill like that is are basilisks and gorgons, and if it is actually the Chamber of Secrets then there might be more of them, or Myrtle may have died of something else and it was just coincidence that she saw the eyes then, but I didn't think of that before."

Snape had drained his glass when he heard the name Myrtle, and was finding it more and more likely that the blasted boy actually had found the Chamber of Secrets, so he did what anyone would do, and poured himself another glass.

"Continue," he said tiredly, "this can only get worse."

"Well," Harry looked even more nervous now than he had before, "Like I said, I was curious, so while Luna continued to talk to Myrtle and work on the charms, I wandered over to the sink she had pointed to. It didn't work, but there were little snakes carved into the handles. You really wouldn't notice, since they're on the undersides, but I was curious and thought they needed an examination. Myrtle really is a nice girl you know."

"Out with it, Potter," Snape practically yelled. Harry paled, but realized that he had to continue since he had already come this far. At least Snape wouldn't think he was evil reincarnated. Probably.

"I'm a parselmouth," he blurted, as he studied his shoes intently. The silence stretched on. Harry finally dared to glance back up at the desk and saw Snape finishing up that glass as well. He figured he couldn't get into any more trouble than he already was, so he just finished his story.

"Well, once I realized that the sink was covered in tiny, hidden snakes I asked it to open up, in parseltongue, and it did, much to my surprise. I asked it to close, and then Luna finished up the spell work... I think she noticed, but she didn't mention it so I'm not certain she did." Snape just looked at him with a hard gaze, before standing up and sweeping to the door of the classroom.

"Keep up, Potter, we need to relay this information to the headmaster. Do you have any good news for me?" he asked as they marched towards the headmaster's office.

"Well, the potion worked, Sir." Snape dropped his face into his palm. The boy was horrifically optimistic at the worst of times.

"Forgive me for not congratulating you immediately," he snarled at Harry as they marched up out of the dungeons. Behind him all Harry could do was shrug. He had asked!

The headmaster had been delighted with the news; chuffed, spiffed and over the bleeding moon. Harry and Severus thought he was off his rocker, but then again, this was the man that had help discover the twelve uses of dragon's blood, at least as soon as wizards were able to get enough blood out of dragons without dying. Well, with out too many of them dying. A basilisk would be just up his alley, if that was indeed what it was.

"That's wonderful, my dear boys," he had crowed once they relayed the news. His eyes lit up at the range of possibilities, and Severus could just see all the new theories spinning through his head.

"I just have to ask," Dumbledore continued, "Harry, why did you go to Professor Snape with this information instead of Professor Flitwick?"

"Because he would know how to handle a difficult situation like this?" Harry asked, though his voice trailed off as a question. Dumbledore merely raised one eyebrow at Harry and waited. Harry sighed before saying, "His office was the closest and I was panicking a little bit."

"Ah well, no matter how we got to the situation we are in, it is for the best that you made it to my office with this information. I will see what I can do without your involvement, since you are only thirteen, but I'm afraid I may have to ask you to open the way for me again." Snape started at that and opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand before any words could come out.

"If it is indeed Salazar Slytherin's Chamber then I doubt any who are not a parselmouth could access it. Even I," he added as Snape's incredulous look. "The founders who built this castle had many magics at their disposal which have since been lost. We do many things differently and I doubt I could break this one secret without disrupting many necessary functions of the castle."

"Of course the brat would be able to connive his way into this," Snape muttered, only slightly to keep up the appearance that he hated the boy. Thirteen year olds should not be anywhere near Slytherin's legendary monster. He just didn't want the boy to get anywhere near since he didn't want to lose the closest thing to a prodigy that he'd found in his years at the school. That was it. Of course. He couldn't actually like the boy.

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, and the potions master was reminded of where he was. "We've been over this before. You have so much in common with Harry." He glanced over to where said boy had wandered off and was poking curiously at one of the whirring objects on a shelf, "if only you would give him a chance."

"Albus," Snape practically whined, "look at him. Even right now he's poking his nose where it doesn't belong." Dumbledore frowned and glanced at the device Harry was studying. He had been working on this project for years and Severus had yet to listen to reason, though Albus still had the niggling feeling that he was missing something. At last, he finally just sat back and said, "At least you don't hate him as much as the Gryffindors."

Severus raised one eyebrow in response and just said, "He is rather good at potions. That doesn't mean that his personality is tolerable." He turned to the distracted student and called, "Come Potter. You will be notified if they need the assistance of a parslemouth and I have yet to punish you for being in a women's lavatory."

Dumbledore watched as the boy's attention shifted from the silvery object to the Professor. Something wasn't as it seemed, but he couldn't for the life of him figure it out.

Harry finally made his way back to the common room, after a stern dressing down, and as he sat next to Luna, all she said was, "How was your meeting with the Headmaster about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I dunno," he sighed, unsurprised by her knowledge, "He seemed ridiculously pleased. Do you think he's secretly an adrenaline junkie, going mad holed up in a castle full of schoolchildren?"

Luna just looked quizzically at Harry before turning back to her tome,

"It's possible," she said. Her face was stuffed deep into the book, but he could hear her continue. "He could also just be happy that they figured out what the monster was after fifty years of mystery. Personally, I'd guess the first. You should go to bed. They won't ask to talk to you for at least 3 more weeks." Harry ignored that comment, though it was most likely true, and just asked,

"How do the objects work? Can you locate them?"

"Oh yes. The potion worked like a charm." Harry blinked a couple times before he giggled madly and headed up the stairs. Luna probably hadn't even heard of the muggle saying "works like a charm" before. She was just that literal.

A/N: Thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you liked it. Any feedback is appreciated. You know what to do!

~Kaia


	6. Books and Elves

A/N: Hello again. Spotty internet and no social life seems to do wonders for my writing, as I have not much to do besides write and read when the net's down. Go me? Anyway, this is more of a filler piece than the others, but it felt right to put it in. I know it feels a bit different than the others, but this story hasn't followed a reliable timeline yet. Anyway, this isn't mine and I'm not getting paid.

Sunday rolled around, and Harry was feeling particularly lazy. He didn't make it down to breakfast on time, and barely caught the tail end of the meal. Nobody that he knew well was there, so he grabbed some toast and fruit to go before he made his way to the Library. Hermione, Neville and Luna were all there, and it was immediately apparent that they were waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" Hermione griped at him. "There are so many people in here that I can't even pretend to study. It's given me the twitches, but they wouldn't let me leave without you." She huffed exasperatedly at Luna and Neville, but they didn't fuss much. They never really worried about Hermione's temper until her hair started to frizz, though none were brave enough to tell her that.

"Sorry," Harry said around a mouthful of apple and toast, "I grabbed some food and came right here."

"Besides," Neville pointed out to her logically, "Where do you want to go?"

"Back to the - " Hermione cut herself off. She really didn't want to go back to the common room. Not only would that leave out Harry and Luna, but she really didn't want to run into any of her year-mates.

"The great hall is practically empty," Harry pointed out, "We could just go back there."

Hermione nodded, seeing no better option. "Sure. We can just sit wherever there's a big enough empty spot."

Back down in the great hall, Hermione was the only one significantly happier. Harry was slightly miffed at having climbed all the way to the eighth floor for nothing, so he was grumbling and Neville was distracted by the food that was still on the tables. Luna just dreamily led everyone to the far end of the Ravenclaw table, which had largely been deserted for the library.

"This should do," she said thoughtfully, as she stared intently down at the table, "as long as the poppins don't steal our books." Harry could have sworn he heard a giggle come from the table, but the other two were so used to her oddness that they ignored it and just settled down to work.

They worked happily at the table for an hour or so, before two of Harry's quills vanished into the table with all the unused silverware.

"Hey!" he shouted at the table, "Give those back!" and much to his surprise, it did. He blinked for a few seconds and then looked at everyone else. They hadn't seen anything strange, other than Harry yelling at a dining table. Or perhaps his books. Hermione led off the laughing, to be quickly joined by the others, before her books disappeared. She abruptly stopped laughing and tried shouting at the table, with mixed results. Hers weren't quite as good as Harry's.

"I'm still short my charms book!" she said indignantly. "How does a table eat a book? And why did Harry get his back, and I didn't get mine?"

"Do you want to go ask the poppins?" Luna asked. Hermione looked a bit sideways at her, but having no real options she just nodded. Luna collected all of her belongings and wandered out of the hall with the other three trailing behind. Down one floor and exactly under the great hall (at least Harry was pretty sure that's where they were), Luna stopped to talk to a picture. Usually that would be normal, but this particular painting didn't actually have any animation at all.

After a few moments of conversation, Hermione became exasperated and snapped, "Luna! Why are we here and where are my books?"

Luna just blinked at the girl, noting that her her was indeed starting to frizz. She turned immediately and tickled the pear. Neville suddenly understood where the Weasley twins got all the food for their parties, and Hermione just stood in shock.

"Luna," she asked, as her eyes rapidly took in the scene before her, "what are they?"

"House elves. My little poppins." Luna replied, as she wandered into the kitchen.

After only a couple seconds, they were approached by no less than four elves bearing food.

"What can weez do for you?" the closest one asked, as her eyes took in the students.

"Can I have my schoolbooks back?" Hermione asked quietly.

"OH! Yes. The not-food that Drippy pulled from the table. He's still little. Follow Pip," he said, as he pulled her around one of the house tables.

"Who is Pip?" Hermione asked, as she followed the elf.

"I is Pip." It said, as it continued towing her down the table. "Can yous hear right? I clean you earses for you if you wishes missuz."

"No, but thank you," Hermione was quick to reassure the elf, "I just wasn't sure who you were speaking about." The elf looked at her as if she was an idiot, and they finally reached her books on the corresponding Ravenclaw table.

"And thank you for returning my books."

"Thank you missuz. I don't think they would make a very good dinner."

"Is there somewhere else we can work where our books won't get in your way?" she asked the little elf.

"Yous all can have the annex to the hall if yous wants. Toppy, Pip and Gilly will reopen it for you after lunch."

Hermione just nodded in thanks, and hurried back to her friends. Harry was sampling a bit of everything off the offered trays, and Luna had somehow gotten her hands on a cone of cotton candy. Neville was just looking around the kitchen in awe.

"I've never seen this many house elves in one place," he whispered to Harry, and in response Harry just replied,

"I've never seen a house elf period."

"Really?" Neville looked at Harry in shock. "We have one at home, but I don't think she's as happy as these since it's just me and Gran to look after."

"Neville," Hermione asked urgently, "how are they paid? Is this what our tuition goes to?"

"No, of course not!" he said looking shocked. "A house elf wouldn't accept it if you offered."

"Then are they slaves?" she asked. Her voice was rising in pitch, and her hair was starting to do the same.

"If you want to know, just ask them," Luna said, peering over Hermione's shoulder. The bookworm jumped at the blonde girl so close behind her, but hid it well and went to find the closest elf. She found one chopping potatoes, and kneeling down beside it, tapped it on the shoulder.

"What's your name?" she asked quietly.

"Twing, missuz," it said to her.

"Why do you work here?" was her next question.

"Because I was dropped by my momma here," it replied, still chopping potatoes

"Do you get paid?" She asked, and the elf looked incredibly offended before squeak-shouting

"I am a good elf. Of course I is not paid!"

"Sorry," Hermione whispered, aware that she had offended the small creature, "but I've never even seen an elf before."

"Twing understands that missuz didn't know, but Twing has to chop."

"Will you answer another question for me?" Hermione asked.

"If she is not insulting Ms Hoggy, she can ask a question," the elf snapped, apparently in defense of the castle.

"Why don't you want to get paid?"

"Miss Hoggy gives us her magic. We love her. She is the bestest mistress ever. Does little mistress need more? I thinks its time for you to go." The elf squeaked at her.

Hermione, feeling chastened for some reason, hustled out of the workspace.

"Are you happy now?" Luna asked, as she rejoined the group.

"Much happier. They seem to love the castle." Luna nodded and frowned at the same time.

"They're lucky to have such a good mistress. All house elves are loyal to the one that gives them magic, but some are treated very poorly."

"Oh yes," Neville agreed. "Gran threw out one of my third cousins that tried to kick Topsy. Said people like her weren't welcome in our house."

"People actually do that? That's horrible!"

The others could only nod in agreement. "I bet Malfoy's family treats their elf badly," Neville said with a sigh.

"So what do you think the rooms will look like?"

"Hermione, are you able to talk about anything else?"

"Well, can I help it if I'm excited? And house elves are wonderful."

"Yes they are, but you need to be careful with them," Neville cautioned.

"How so?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Well, they're bound to the castle, so they'll do all they can to protect her and keep her clean."

"But that sounds fine," Harry said, trying to figure out how they could be bad.

"Well, theoretically it would be, but if you upset or offend them then they'll just stop helping you, since it's not the students they're bound to."

"So they only help us because they like keeping Hogwarts clean, and we make it messy?"

"Well, it's a bit more than that," Luna tried to explain, "But yes."

"House elves also love to be helpful," Neville tacked on, "And if you treat them well they can become almost family. Mistreated house elves though... you never know what they're going to do. And they can be wicked powerful sometimes."

"And if you seem like you pose a threat to their master they can take some pretty extreme measures," Luna added sagely.

Hermione survived the rest of the morning by studying with the others in an empty classroom, but as lunch rolled around she was practically dancing in her seat. She also couldn't stop thinking about the promised study room. They all eventually gave into Hermione's badgering and wandered into the great hall and ate lunch at the end of Ravenclaw, where they were, usually unmolested by the other years and houses.

They made an odd picture, with all four of them huddled over their respective advanced books, Charms, Potions, Transfiguration and Herbology. Occasionally someone would ask for food, or they'd look up from a book to ask a question, but in general, they passed the time in comfortable silence.

* * *

Since the summer, Harry had been slowly learning the interactions and base compositions of many potions ingredients, but the maddeningly complex tables and charts that he'd made to try to remember the different reactions took ages to learn properly. He had constructed his own very basic calming potion the other night, under the inspection of Professor Snape, without a recipe, and had earned some rare words of praise. Progress was slow, but it didn't take long for Hermione and Neville to realize how far advanced he was from the rest of them in Potions.

A few days into the term when Harry was snarling and moaning over his potions work for the first time in months and Hermione offered to help. Harry gently turned her down, but she caught a glance of what he was working on and her mouth had dropped open.

"Harry, what on earth is that?"

"Potions," he had sighed, realizing that he was lucky to have kept her in the dark for even a few months.

"Yes, but what on earth is the assignment?"

"It's trying to find a way to improve the brewing process of the calming potion that they gave us in the textbook."

"That's definitely not our potions homework, Harry."

"No," he agreed, "it's not your potions work. It's mine."

"But why is yours different, and why are you using that textbook?"

"Because?" he lamely offered up, but since she was tapping her foot in that way, he decided that he should probably answer her. "Because I may have connived Professor Snape into giving me some extra lessons?" He trailed off at the end, and Hermione sat and stared at him for a second.

"You voluntarily spend more time with Professor Snape than you have to? And I thought he had you in detention all the..." She trailed off at that, and after a second her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh. My. God. Harry. It's not detention you have, is it? How on earth did you convince him to do it? What on earth?"

"Well," He sighed again, realizing that he may as well tell her the whole story, "I've always liked potions. When I got the textbooks before first year, it was what I was most interested in, and then I got that detention at the flying lessons, and it was with him, and it really wasn't bad." Hermione raised an eyebrow, as if to say she didn't believe him, and he plowed on. By now, Neville was listening in curiosity, "So I stewed all the toadstools the Professor had, and apparently far faster than he expected, because then he had to find something else for me to do,"

"You didn't have to scrub cauldrons?" Neville asked incredulously.

"Well, he said something about the rule that first years not having brooms was kind of ridiculous, especially if they knew how to fly them, but that's not the point." Neville's eyes were bugging out at this point, as he was starkly terrified of Professor Snape, and Harry doubted that he'd ever heard a good word about him in his life.

"But while I was doing all that drudgery that he didn't want to do, he was removing the venom from doxies, and afterwards since I had been so good, and he knew I really liked potions, then he let me watch, and then I helped him with that until curfew, and then he said that I could come back again and help with ingredient preparation if I wanted to, since he'd welcome the help."

"Luna, why doesn't this surprise you?" Hermione finally asked, since she and Neville were both staring at Harry open-mouthed.

"Well, Snape isn't that bad if you're good at potions," she replied, "and Harry is really, _really_ good. Truly. You haven't seen him in there, have you? Plus, you two are Gryffs. Of course he hates you."

"But you can't tell anyone that. I have to be in detention with him every night. Even Dumbledore still thinks he hates me, and it's been two years. He only says that he wants his reputation to stay intact, but I think it's a huge joke for him that Professor Dumbledore doesn't know. Seriously. Please don't tell." Harry was getting seriously worried by now. "He might stop the lessons, and I'm doing so well, and-"

"Harry, don't worry," Hermione cut him of, as he was starting to get genuinely worked up, "Why would I tell? The only people who would care are all horrible to me anyway."

"See?" Luna pointed out, "That's exactly what I said."

* * *

Now he could only laugh now that they had taken so long to figure it out, but then again, all of them had their own specialties. Neville was far and beyond Professor Sprout's favorite, and Harry knew that he sometimes went out to the greenhouses on Saturdays to help her with new and interesting things. And Luna wasn't exactly getting tutoring from Professor Flitwick, but he was constantly recommending new books for her. She ate them nearly as fast as Hermione, but since she mainly only cared about charms it was far more focused, and Hermione excelled in every subject she tried, but her real talents were Transfiguration.

"You three put me to shame, you know," She said, as she was packing up her books after lunch that day, as they were preparing to move into their new room.

"How on earth can you say that?" Neville asked her curiously, "You have straight O's in every class. You're taking every single elective, and I still haven't figured out how you're doing that."

"But I'm good at everything," She replied, and the other's just shook their heads in exasperation.

"We did realize that, Hermione," Harry commented, while rolling his eyes.

"No, but you're all really, really great at a subject. I bet you all already know what you want to do with your lives." At that, they all kind of shrugged and nodded, so she continued, "But I have no idea what I want to do." The four of them looked at her like she was nuts, so she elaborated, as they started to make their way over to the antechamber.

"Well, I don't know what I want to do in the future. I don't even really know what there is available to me. I don't think I want to work for this government since it seems quite prejudiced, but I can't just give up my magical heritage." She sighed, as they pushed the doors open, but the sigh quickly turned into a gasp.

"Oh, it's perfect. It's so lovely. We even have our own desks, but they're close enough to talk, and there's a fireplace, and everything. And these chairs look nice." The others rolled their eyes at her, but they couldn't deny that the room was just what they needed, although quite large for just the four of them.

It didn't remain just the four of them for too long though, as other students saw them enter more frequently over the next week. It gradually became known as the inter-house common room.

**A/N: **Hope you liked it. All reviews welcome, good or bad; I'll take any feedback you have.

~Kaia


End file.
